Art is the Lie
by Objessions
Summary: Tag to Episode 8 Packing Peanuts and Fire The title is part of a quote by Pablo Picasso "Art is the lie that enables us to realize the truth." As always, I own nothing. But I'm having fun playing with other kids' toys. J
1. Chapter 1

Art is the Lie

 _Tag to Episode 8 Packing Peanuts and Fire_

 _The title is part of a quote by Pablo Picasso "Art is the lie that enables us to realize the truth." ~ J_

Mac knew something was on Jack's mind the minute the zombie apocalypse conversation started. When you walk into work and greet your partner with good morning and instead of replying they instantly want to know your ideal weapon to survive the United States of Zombieland, you have to think things are maybe a little off. Then again, Mac reasoned, they did get into those conversations quite a bit, and it wasn't always a distraction from things going sideways anymore. Usually. But not always.

Then Cage came into the War Room acting strangely. Mac's eyes narrowed a little. "Why are you lying?" he asked. He didn't follow up with his next thought, "And why are you being so obvious about it? Your training is better than that. You want us to know, don't you?" He didn't have to say it though; it was implicit in his tone.

Jack was trying to cut her some slack, or he really was distracted by something, because usually Jack's bullshit meter was even more finely tuned than Mac's. Then Matty called her out the second she walked it. Cage's body language screamed 'up to something', but her eyes were soft and smiling.

Mac just shook his head and turned away. It would sort itself out, and frankly since they were here for a briefing, he had no interest in trying to unpack another of Cage's weird moods. And then Riley came in, acting even weirder than Cage, and Cage was smirking about it. _Hmmm_. It was pretty clearly bugging Jack, but Matty put a stop to any conversation about it by starting the mission brief.

Even Jack thought it sounded kind of fun, and maybe, just maybe, for a change, not wildly stupidly dangerous. Of course, looks, he thought to himself, could be deceiving. Like his favorite science nerd knowing a whole bunch about art and the world of international art dealership, clandestine and otherwise. How had that never come up? And what the hell else was hidden in that head of his?

0-0-0

The flight to Brussels was uneventful, considering the weird tension in the War Room from that morning, but Riley was definitely not herself. Unfortunately, Jack couldn't seem to get anywhere with her, and Cage was just looking almost smug about it.

Jack tried to pull out of Mac just exactly how he knew so damned much about the world of Operation Artsy-Fartsy before he'd been handed one folder's worth of briefing materials, but Mac had just looked up from what he was reading about their mark with a grin.

"I have more than one interest, Jack. Besides, I would have thought you'd have picked up a little info about it based on the number of time I know you've watched _Hudson Hawk_."

Jack chuckled and then decided to just pull that up on the company tablet and do a little entertainment-based research on being an art thief. Mac could take care of the boring stuff for them. Of course when Mac and Ri started talking about what they needed to do to get past the security system, Jack felt like maybe he should have paid attention instead if singing _Swingin' on a Star_ under his breath, because it turned out to be pretty irritating and he wished he'd been more mentally prepared for it.

Despite feeling like they were out looking for the Great Pumpkin for a while, Jack had to admit that, as usual, Mac's seat-of-his-pants solution worked pretty well, especially when combined with Riley's assistance over the comms.

Jack thought for perhaps the thousandth time that he really didn't get rich people. This room looked like a museum, and nothing in it was all that great as far as Jack could see. One of the sculptures looked like a stack of his nephews Legos. Mac knew him too well, since without even glancing over his shoulder, he said, "Jack, don't touch that."

Of course, immediately after chastising him for almost touching something like Jack was five years old, Mac asked for his shoelaces and one of his boots. He had the sneaking suspicion he was going to be finishing this already annoying mission barefoot. Then he had to smile at the total Indy move Mac was pulling to accomplish filching this whatever-the-hell blue horse monstrosity they needed.

The feeling of the plan working was a lot like realizing you'd completed a really tough level of a video game on Legendary. There was a definite rush to it. Then Mac got all touchy about the blue horse guy and was handling the thing like it was a new born baby. Jack huffed a sigh and limped, one-shoed over to a chair he spied to wait out Mac's fussing over the package.

Unfortunately, that was the thing that made sitting suddenly out of the question. Mac looked so offended that Jack was almost waiting for him to go full Dr. Jones and yell at him that the damned thing belonged in a museum. He thought again that he really didn't get rich people. Or art either apparently. What he did get was that with security already on its way, he could have his boot back.

Also, he thought, sometimes he didn't get Mac. How did one guy keep so many different things so sharply present and readily available in his mind? And also, how was one human being so enthusiastic about so many subjects? Jack knew he was kind of a simply guy with simple wants and needs, but while he'd always known Mac was complicated, the last few months were a lesson in just how deep that complexity ran.

Then Riley was almost sharp with them about cutting the cameras and comms, a distinctly Matty-like edge in her voice. She didn't like losing communications one bit. Jack couldn't help but be reminded how distant she'd been the last couple of days. He couldn't keep it to himself anymore and brought it up to Mac.

Mac shook his head. "You want to talk about this now?"

He knew it was silly, but he kind of did. He and Mac had some real breakthroughs about personal stuff while under pressure at work sometimes. He laid out what was bugging him. Mac just more or less told him to leave it for later when they had hopefully made it the hell off this estate with limbs and vital organs intact.

When they finally got to a place Mac thought offered an out (albeit an unattractive one), he went to work to get them out of there. Jack saw it as an opportunity to try again to get Mac's opinion on what was up with Riley.

Mac was determined to both refocus his partner on the mission at hand, and remind him, that no matter how much Jack looked at Riley, or him for that matter, as his kids, they were adults and no amount of fatherly concern or affection was going to make it possible for him to put the parental Mr.-Fit-It hat on.

Jack's response was to get a little defensive. "Why wouldn't she want me to know?"

Mac almost laughed when he pointed out that some stories weren't exactly parent friendly. Then he realized he had a perfect opportunity to remind Jack about where those boundaries might lie, for him, too. Jack had been pretty hover-y since the Murdoc incident. "She knows where to find you, and she ain't exactly shy."

He realized almost immediately that his words could backfire on him as it related to his own relationship with Jack because everyone knew how loathe he was to ask for help, even when he needed it desperately. He tried softening that a little with, "If she wants your help, you'll know," as an indication that it was okay for Jack to trust his instincts a little, but over the top prying would get him in trouble.

They didn't have much time for conversation after that. The pool was their only option. Before he could let himself think about the drop, Mac launched himself out the window. Jack quickly followed, almost inhaling water as he gasped at how cold it was.

Didn't that just sum up how things were going about perfectly?


	2. Chapter 2

When Mac and Jack piled into the van, Cage was already taking off before they pulled the door closed. Both men moved to sit and were met with Riley's immediate sharp, "Not in the seats! You'll drip all over our gear." By which she meant her tech, and woe betide the agent who messed up any of Riley's equipment.

"Well, what're we supposed to do then?" Jack grumped.

Mac sunk down onto the floor at the back of the van, shivering and doing his best to hide it, lest it reduce the impact of the glare he threw his partner. "Sit on the floor, Jack." He sighed. "That's what happens when somebody doesn't pay attention on a mission. You get to sit on the cold floor while you're dripping with cold water on a cold night in the back of a cold van like a bad puppy that couldn't stay out of the puddles at the park, while the rest of your team laughs in the front because apparently being in the way of the heat getting back here is funny!" Mac growled.

"I can try turning the heat up, Mac," Cage offered, doing a terrible job at concealing the laughter in her voice, and glad that neither of the guys could see her or Riley's faces.

For her own part, Cage thought the whole thing was pretty funny. Riley seemed to be going back and forth between amused and annoyed. Then again, Cage supposed Riley had been listening to their bickering for a lot longer than she had, and maybe it was starting to lose its charm for the younger woman.

Jack dropped down on the floor next to his partner when Cage taking a corner made him almost slip and fall because of his wet shoes. "I was payin' attention!" Jack insisted, frowning at Mac.

"I always nearly destroy priceless works of art when I'm paying attention on missions," Mac snapped as he tried wringing out the front of his hair and then huffed as all it did was make his shirt wetter.

"Don't … Chairs are not art, okay? They're just not. They're chairs. All you do is sit in them."

Mac bit back his reply, running his hand through his wet hair again. This was not an argument he could possibly win with Jack. To be fair, Jack was probably being argumentative more because he was cold and wet too than because he cared what anybody else collected as art. Still, cold and miserable equaled grouchy and argumentative on both of them and it wasn't likely to get better any time soon.

Then Mac had an idea, "Hey, Cage, pull into the next gas station you see, would you?"

0-0-0

Hand dryers in a gas station men's room wasn't exactly the ideal way to dry off after their dip, but at least the air was warm.

"Guy'll call a freakin' chair art and spend millions of dollars on blue horses, but could he heat his pool? No!"

Mac shook his head, and grinned at Jack, much less annoyed with his partner now that they were away clean, and starting to dry off and warm up. Also, this place had hot coffee they could grab when they were done, and gas station coffee in Belgium was a definite step up from its American counterpart.

He was about to suggest hot food, too, which he knew would cheer Jack up, when his phone rang. He and Jack shared an amused eyeroll when he answered and Bozer immediately launched into a tale of having clearly discovered an international spy ring of SPECTRE proportions and Mac thought his roommate was probably already cracking out his tux and best British accent by the sounds of it.

They tried to talk Bozer down by pointing out the possible perfectly reasonable explanations of what Bozer had seen, but it just seemed to convince him that he was right, and they weren't taking it seriously enough. Then Jack teased, "Every newbie starts seeing secret agents lurking in the shadows, man."

Mac didn't even bother to conceal his grin when Jack brought out the dad tone and told Bozer to more or less go to his room and do his homework. Then, bursting in at the same time she knocked, Cage announced that they needed to go whether or not they were dry. Mac and Jack exchanged a look. Someone really needed to sit that woman down and talk about healthy boundaries. Sooner rather than later.

Their slight irritation at Cage's intrusion, that could have easily been spoken through the door or texted to one or both of them, was mitigated by the good news that they got the meeting they were after. And it was nearly forgotten in their concern that Bozer was going to do something stupid when he asked Mac how to get through a padlock.

Mac let his friend know exactly what he thought of him going off half-cocked all on his own and Jack reiterated his previous admonishment for Boze to stay out of trouble. Mac ended the call as they headed out of the bathroom. "I knew he was going to be like this. I told Matty it was a bad idea," Mac sighed.

"Me, too." Then Jack grinned. "Of course, I thought the same thing about you not so very many years ago."

"You thought I was going to get myself in trouble by jumping at shadows?" Mac raised an eyebrow and sounded offended.

"No. I just mean, it's a little nerve wracking when someone you care about is exposed to all that new information and suddenly they have all sorts of creative new ways of getting themselves into trouble."

Mac chuckled as he filled a coffee cup and passed it to Jack so he could fix it how he preferred and then started filling one for himself. "Fortunately for both of us, I came with lots of creative ways to get out of it."

"So long as we don't get called home so you can use those skills to bail out our favorite trainee, it's all good."

Mac paid the clerk and led the way out to the van. Cage was standing next to the vehicle looking impatient. "What is her deal tonight?" Mac grumbled.

Jack shrugged. "I dunno man, but the major upside to getting the meeting? Dry clothes waiting on the jet."

"Amen to that, pal."


	3. Chapter 3

Barcelona was a beautiful city, its diverse history and culture apparent everywhere you looked. A powerful European economic center, it wasn't surprising that the world of the international art black market had a home there. And the street where the vape shop fronting for the art ring was located was so busy, they had to walk up the block from where Cage was able to park the van.

"I think I'm goin' deaf, man." Mac side-eyed Jack at the grumbled statement. "Can't understand a damned word anybody says around here."

"We keep telling you your Spanish is trash, old man." Mac smirked at his partner.

"My Spanish is better than yours, Brainiac." Jack swatted his partner on the arm and Mac laughed.

"It's the accent," he explained as they wove their way through the crowd. "Barcelona is the heart of Catalonia, and there's quite a mix of influences on the language here." Jack gave him one of his skeptical looks.

Mac went on, "There are some historical and linguistic indications that there's a Greek influence here. The Romans spent time conquering this part of Spain, too. And in the 5th century the area was invaded by the Visigoths. Then the Arab world came calling in the 8th century. After that it's been a parade, Rome again, France, the Spanish obviously, and the influence of Catalan on the area's language is fairly well known. You didn't notice the last time we were here?"

Jack was grinning. "Do you ever sleep, or do you just stay up reading obscure text books while us Normals do what the people do?"

Mac mock-glared at Jack. "I … You know what, I'm just gonna go with 'I drink and I know things', and also screw you," he laughed. "We talked about this the last time we were here anyway."

"Yeah, well, unlike that Lannister guy, I drink to forget things," Jack chuckled ruefully. "And the bar crawl after our last mission out this way … hell, what were we even doing here again?"

Mac shook his head, smiling. "Taking down that ISIL cell. You got your nose broken and quite possibly your heart, hence the bar crawl. Remember now?"

"Oh hell, that one. I think another bar crawl might be in order. Maybe it'll give me selective amnesia." Mac chuckled in response. Tapas and red wine until Jack couldn't remember his backfired headbutt. Jack glanced around. "This looks like the place."

Mac nodded his agreement and they ducked inside.

The laconic greeting followed by the overly thorough pat down they both received told them that this was definitely serious business and likely their ticket to a meet with Lamaire. Jack was irritated enough by it that he could feel his distinctly Dalton temper already rising.

He also noticed just how tight Mac's jaw got. Nobody much appreciated being manhandled by security, but Jack knew it went deeper for Mac. Since the Murdoc incident, Mac had been almost overly conscious of his personal space and definitely had been shying away from contact with anyone unfamiliar. Jack vowed to stay out in front on this one. Mac needed more time.

The Pawn's operation was definitely three steps above pro. Jack was slightly dazzled by the small, odd man's demeanor and his set up. Mac was closely inspecting everything, frowning a bit from time to time. Of course, he also knew enough about the world of art to be impressed by the procedures and equipment in place.

Mac wasn't sure Jack was even aware of it, but something about the place was clearly making his partner nervous, because he was even chattier than usual and kept touching things. It was most likely that Jack was entirely out of his element, or at least felt he was, because this was about art.

Mac wanted to explain that organized crime was organized crime, and the black-market art trade could be more cutthroat than even drugs. Instead, he tossed his partner a slightly irritated glance and focused on how he was going to handle trying to get a meeting with Lemaire.

The Pawn's offer was laughable, and he knew it. Mac was surprised that Lemaire's guy would lowball a Franz Marc like that. His research told him they could get at least twice that on the market. It was a high demand piece for private collectors. He was further surprised by the Pawn's rejection of their offer to meet Lemaire as payment instead.

Mac saw it for what it was; bait for them to reveal information about themselves. He tried selling their backstory that they were art thieves for hire. Jack could see the skeptical look the Pawn was giving Mac. Sometimes having that babyface must be hell, Jack thought, because the guy wasn't buying that he was an experienced art thief for even a minute.

Jack stepped in, prepared to charm his way into the man's good graces and sell their team's "experience". It still didn't get them the meeting, but at least it got them an in, Mac supposed. But something about the whole thing was bothering him.

He was mentally chewing on the meeting, trying to recall every visual detail on the walk to the van. As the van pulled out into traffic, he still didn't quite know what about the whole deal felt so off. Then he asked himself what an international black-market art dealer was even doing dealing with two people he's ever heard of. Damn it. He opened the tube and confirmed his sudden suspicion.

They'd only been gone about ten minutes, but when the whole team got back to the vape shop, the store was closed and locked. Picking it didn't take Mac very long, but he was convinced that seconds mattered. When he realized that their lead had evaporated, he was starting to think Jack's idea for a blackout bar crawl was a pretty good one.

0-0-0

The realization that the operation in Hungary was bigger than they'd thought called for some creative last-minute solutions. Mac was almost surprised when Jack suggested they split up, but it was the only realistic solution since they definitely couldn't sneak in as a whole group, and he and Riley didn't carry guns.

And Mac knew Jack trusted him to be able to handle anything that came up, even if Cage turned out to be less useful backup than Jack. Things always seemed to go sideways when they weren't the ones watching each other's backs. When Mac heard Jack start to question Riley about whatever it was that was going on with her, he realized that Jack's motivations for suggesting the pairings he did was less than mission-focused.

Mac did manage to be a little impressed when Jack went direct instead of dancing around the issue. "Now did I do something to piss you off?"

Mac gave Cage a look when she butted in to the conversation. Their little family didn't wait until after missions to hash stuff out. If they did that they'd never get a chance to talk. Instead of spelling it out, he decided to joke a little and hope she got the point. "Yeah, but Jack's gonna tell me about this at the house later, so this saves me time."

Jack and Riley couldn't know it, but Mac swallowed hard and almost wanted to butt in himself when Riley said, "Look, I just need to do this on my own, alright?"

She didn't know it, but that was almost verbatim what he'd said to Jack in Paris weeks ago, and his efforts to handle things all on his own and pushing Jack away had resulted in about the worst forty-eight hours of his life.

Jack's response let him know that he'd learned a thing or two about managing complicated relationships in which one of his roles was as a parent. Talking to Mac had taught him that it wasn't always about how he felt about either one of them needing a parent.

Then Mac realized things were about to go seriously pear-shaped.

He and Cage exchanged a look and they broke into a run.


	4. Chapter 4

"I said, put the gun down." There was no uncertainness in the man's voice. If Jack didn't comply bad things were going to happen.

Jack hesitated and one of the other goons grabbed Riley by the hair and yanked her toward him. She let out a yelp of pained surprise.

"Hey, hey!" Jack growled. "I'm puttin' it down. Just take it easy."

Jack slowly moved to put down his weapon, eyes locked on Riley's, trying to tell her with everything about himself that this was going to be okay. Before he could rise, the first of the guards kicked him hard in the stomach and brought the butt of his gun down hard behind Jack's ear.

Even gasping at the pain in the gut he had enough presence of mind to try rolling out of the way, so the pistol only hit him a glancing blow. But it was still enough to disorient him and make it impossible to get back up on his own. The guard not pinning Riley grabbed Jack by the arm and hauled him to his feet.

Jack grunted at the pain in his swimming head and wretched, trying hard not to throw up, but only being partially successful. He wasn't sure if he had a concussion, or if he felt like losing what little he had in his stomach from getting kicked in it, but either way, he wasn't equipped to fight back before the guy got his hands secured with zip ties.

Jack thought about fighting back as soon as his eyes stopped watering, but saw the other guard with his weapon pressed between Riley's shoulder blades. Now was maybe not the moment to take a stand. The first guy gave Jack a shove. "Didn't you see the no trespassing signs, man? Boss is gonna wanna talk to you."

Jack made his feet start moving as the other guard maneuver in front of him with Riley, just so he could see the gun digging into her back. Jesus, it was hard to stay cool and make a rational decision when you were as pissed off as he was at the way they were handling her. But he managed it.

They hadn't gone very far when they were shoved through a door into large storage room. When the men started securing them to the bar of a large rack, Riley let out an almost panicked whimper. "Hey, it's gonna be okay, kiddo. I got this," Jack assured her.

Speaking out of turn earned him another punch in the gut that left him gasping. He dropped his head, closing his eyes for a minute and just focusing on breathing in the hopes that he could keep from being sick. He lifted his head when a nasally, higher pitched male voice said with deadly amusement. "Oh, it's you again."

"I'm like a bad penny," Jack agreed, through panting breaths.

"What are you doing here?" The Pawn asked pleasantly. Jack just narrowed his eyes. "Hit him," The Pawn ordered.

The guard picked up a roll of change off a nearby table and held it loosely in his fist, then he socked the currently defenseless Jack hard in the face. As soon as Jack spat out the inevitable blood, he glanced at Riley, whose face registered his pain like they'd struck her, and quipped, "If you and Lamaire didn't represent the art world's third biggest crime family, I'd say to kiss my ass, but given your status, I will say, slurp my butt."

"Oh no, Jack. Not _Hudson Hawk_ quotes," Riley murmured under her breath. The Pawn and his men didn't quite catch it, but Jack did and gave her a fond, albeit bloody, smile. She remembered.

"I don't like repeating myself." Jack responded by spitting out more blood. "Hit him again," was the bland order that was complied with without hesitation, with the blow this time being landed on his left kidney.

Jack cursed, then quoted, "Is looking like a constipated warthog a prerequisite for getting a job in the art world?"

The Pawn tried a different tack. "How did you find me?"

Jack smirked. "I feel like a dolphin that's never tasted melted snow. What's the color blue taste like?"

"What the hell?" the guard working him over grumbled, and punched him in the mouth without being ordered to, then followed it up with a couple shots to the ribs, just because this guy was pissing him off.

"Are you done?" The Pawn asked, irritation becoming more evident in voice, giving lie to his otherwise impassive demeanor.

"You donut-hole-eating, son-of-a-bitch, take-it-in-the-ear-for-a-beer, rat bastard," was followed by a hail of punches that left Jack choking for breath and he heard Riley's almost sobbing breath next to him. She wasn't cut out for this, he thought to himself, didn't belong in the field, no matter how good at her part of missions she often was. He had to protect her from this somehow. And baiting the bad guys seemed like it was working.

Jack opened his mouth to say something else. He couldn't think of anymore random quotes to throw at these guys, at least not from Hudson Hawk, so he was about to just get really personal, when the Pawn cut him off.

"Make him pay for flapping his mouth without answering my question."

The solid body shot, coupled with the mouth full of blood he already had made Jack pretty sure he was gonna puke. But he didn't have time to react, even with an involuntary bodily function.

"Again."

Slamming pain in his torso that was so sharp it shot down his leg.

"Again."

The guard landed another solid blow.

Riley squeezed her eyes shut. They were going to kill him. She was sure of it. And she was irrationally certain that if Mac and Cage hadn't gotten here and put a stop to this yet, they weren't coming. Tears were trying to leak out from under her eyelids, so she closed them tighter.

She almost felt relieved when the Pawn barked, "Enough." Jack moaned and when the Pawn asked, "Anything else to say?" he just shook his head. He wasn't going to cop to Mac being here with them, but he didn't have it in him to keep pushing buttons until he maybe caught his breath for a minute.

The Pawn looked ready to burst into flames with anger. It made Riley want to crawl out of her own skin. Jack made a point of maintaining eye contact with him as he went on. "Somehow, you managed to follow me here. A fatally stupid mistake on your part. But still, very impressive." Riley looked around. Mac would have figured out how to get out of these bonds by now, she was sure of it. She felt so damned helpless and this guy, this Pawn was going to hurt Jack more. Jack just glared back at the guy. It was all he had at the moment. The Pawn set his goons off to look for Mac. Then he looked at Jack with almost hungry anticipation. "…And you get to meet my boss."

When Lemaire strolled in carrying a cattle prod, Jack doubled down on trying to keep the attention focused on himself. The Pawn had revealed that they hadn't pinched Mac and Cage, so that meant his partner was on his way with armed backup.

He just had to keep this up a little longer. When he opened his mouth to bait the boss he heard Riley whispering, in near total desperation, "Stop it, stop it," like a prayer. But he couldn't stop it. Talking about nothing bought time. So, he kept it up.

Lemaire sneered. "The time for lies is over," he hissed. He knew Jack was an agent, that much was clear. "I would like to hear the truth. And we can begin with your real name and what agency you are working for."

"My name is Kevin Perkins, I'm a wide receiver for the Dallas Cowboys," was almost worth the look of disbelief at his audacity on Lemaire's face, until the man hit him almost in the chest with the cattle prod.

Mac had explained once why it was that electricity hurt so much more than other forms of torture … something about it being the thing your nerves worked off of anyway, and at that moment Jack would have given anything for Mac to be there already bailing him out. But he wasn't.

Lemaire kept up a rapid fire of repeated questions about who he was, who he worked for, and almost instant increasingly longer and longer shocks from his chosen weapon. Then he gave Jack a moment to breath, took him by the face and stared into his eyes. "I hope you know this can all stop, if you just tell me who you are. Tell me. Can you?"

Jack had the good sense to be terrified of more pain like that, and the deeply ingrained training to not let it break him. Not now. Not when Mac and Cage had to be somewhere nearby ready to mount a rescue. But he nodded anyway.

There was a flash of victory in Lemaire's eyes, that was quickly followed by a black seething fury when Jack spoke. Then his tormentor's gaze fell on Riley. "Perhaps your friend here will be a little more chatty, huh?"

Jack felt a little flash of pride when Ri shook her head and forced out the words, "I'm very introverted," but when Lemaire caressed her cheek, said she was very beautiful, Jack felt the way he had when he realized Murdoc had Mac.

Getting the attention back on himself was the only way to keep this from going from bad to worse. And once he got out of this, he was going to buy a big plastic bubble to keep Riley in. And maybe a pack of guard dogs.

Only a relatively few feet away, and knowing they were very outgunned and would wind up hanging alongside the rest of their team if they went in with only her weapon, Cage saw Mac looking around and whispered, "Now's the time Jack would ask if you had any brilliant ideas."

Mac had an idea, but not only was he not sure it was brilliant, he wasn't even sure he liked it. But Jack had been successful in distracting Lemaire from Riley, but the dealer had gone to work on Jack with that cattle prod again, and now his partner was near screaming with the agony of it. Mac didn't even care if it worked according to plan, as long as it provided enough of a distraction to ambush these guys.

When the packing peanuts exploded upward and started raining down in a blizzard of flaming starch, things happened very quickly. Cage was a whirlwind of punishing limbs, disarming Lemaire's guards and making them sorry they'd laid hands on a member of her team.

Mac, took a two-birds-with-one-stone approach and climbed up the staging where Jack and Riley were hanging and tipped it over, knocking Lemaire flat and getting Jack and Riley to where he could quickly and easily free them.

"Good to see you, Mac," Jack managed as his partner cut him free.

"Yeah, you, too," he said, bending to free Riley.

Now Jack had had a minute to catch his breath, his eyes searched the room. There he was. Jack spat some blood out of his mouth and strode across the room. "Hey!" Lemaire was savvy enough to know this wouldn't end well for him; he looked afraid. It gave Jack a moment's satisfaction that cut through his pain. "You wanna know who I am? I'm the guy that just broke your nose."

He didn't think he'd felt quite that satisfied punching anybody in a long time. He picked up and dusted off his jacket. He was panting, hurting, and wanted more than anything to sit down, but he was still too pissed off to rest. Mac approached him, looking about as concerned as Jack would have expected, but Jack just responded to the look with a "Thank you," and a fist bump.

Mac appreciated Jack's need to keep moving and bleed off some stress, so he just answered, "Anytime," and moved off to secure Lemaire. What Jack did was go wrap Riley in a tight hug, asking if she was okay. Lemaire had hit her in the leg with the cattle prod before Jack had managed to piss him off enough to draw him away and then she'd gone down hard when Mac tipped the staging.

Riley clung to him for a minute, assuring him she'd be okay and not quite able to force herself to let go for a minute. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his neck as she thought her father would never have done anything like that for her. He was a man who couldn't endure her having the last slice of pizza if he liked the toppings when she was a kid. But Jack … Jack had not just endured torture, but asked for it to keep her safe.

She gave Jack one more hard squeeze and she was reminded that what he'd endured must have left him hurting pretty badly. They helped each other move toward some wooden crates so they could sit, leaning against each other. Riley thought again about how Jack had always been there to lean on.

When he'd left when she was a kid, she'd sworn she'd never forgive him. Turned out that it hadn't been so much Jack's choice as she'd always thought. Diane had admitted to Riley not too long ago that, after he'd beaten down a drunken abusive Elwood, she'd told him to leave.

Jack would never have told her that, was more concerned with her having a good relationship with her mom than about how she felt about him. She was about to tell him, but then she realized she couldn't talk about Elwood without giving away her current predicament. Jack's interrogation skills, or maybe it was his Papa Bear skills, had always enabled him to read her like a book. Instead she just whispered, "Thank you, Jack."

He answered her with a gentle squeeze around her shoulders. Jack was thinking of getting up again and seeing if there was anything he could do when Mac stepped in front of them. "How you guys holding up?" he asked, eyes bright with concern.

"We're good, bud," Jack answered, realizing that he sounded anything but.

Mac frowned at him, then gave a wry smirk and shook his head. "Sure you are." He gestured toward Cage. "We're gonna do a sweep, secure any more bad guys that weren't already down here." Jack nodded, then made as if to rise. Mac put a hand on his shoulder. "Matty has an exfil team on the way. ETA about forty minutes. That'll give Cage and I time to finish locking this place down."

Jack opened his mouth to insist that he could help, but Mac gave him a glare Jack was all too familiar with, since it was the once he usually used on Mac when the kid was being a stubborn pain in the ass. "You stay put. Both of you. You are less than an hour away from a smooth flight home and the attention of a medic who knows what you just went through."

"I've had a lot worse and helped you finish a mission," Jack insisted.

Mac shook his head. "Don't make me add to your list of injuries by kicking your ass right now, pal."

Mac and Riley exchanged a look and Riley gave him an almost imperceptible nod. "Stay with me, Jack. Please?"

Jack's expression softened, and he smiled at her, brushing her hair off her face. "Okay, Ri, honey. I'll stay right here."

Mac walked off to finish the job, concealing his smile until his back was to Jack. Riley had just been tricked into accepting support from Papa Jack and Jack had been tricked into not making his injuries any worse. Mac grinned to himself. _Damn, I'm good_.


	5. Chapter 5

Mac and Cage had the place more than sorted out by the time the exfil team arrived. As it happened, it was Marcus's team, who were wrapping up a much less exciting mission over the border in Austria. He told Mac and the team that the medic had stayed at the airport setting up a mobile lab and x-ray based on the report Matty gave her, but offered to call her in for transport if Mac thought Jack or Riley needed more urgent care.

Riley wasn't even limping anymore and Jack was okay enough to wait to get back to the jet before some medic made him miserable. So Mac just shook his head and got the team ready to roll out. Marcus's guys were going to handle the handoff of most of the crooks to the local authorities, and transport Lemaire, which was probably good, because Jack looked like he maybe wanted to break more of the guy's facial bones.

When they got to the airport Riley preceded them up the steps and when she ducked inside they heard her say, "Hi, Mel," in her usual friendly voice.

"Oh, are you serious right now?" Jack grumbled as Mac helped him up the steps.

"What's the matter?" Cage asked, coming up behind them.

"Melody Sullivan is the head of nursing at Phoenix," Mac explained. "She's also a hell of a field medic."

"So, what's the problem?"

Mac gave a short slightly nervous laugh. "This team's relationship with her is … Complicated."

"She hates us," Jack said.

Cage laughed. "So far you've said that about everyone who works in that entire department since I met you Jack."

Jack stumbled a little and Mac steadied him. "She doesn't hate us, Jack. She just kind of likes her rules and protocol, and we …"

"Never met a rule you didn't want to break?" Cage laughed.

"Something like that," Mac agreed.

When they went through the door, the nurse glanced up from whatever she was prepping at a side table. "Hey guys. Jesus, Dalton, you look like you got run through a meat grinder. Does it feel as bad as it looks?"

"Ah, it's not too bad; probably a big ole waste of time for Matty to send you here."

"Mmm," she mumbled, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "I'm still setting up in here, if you want to go change into some sweats or something, Jack," she said briskly.

Jack was still leaning on Mac. "How much are you gonna make me suffer, Mel?" he asked, almost joking, but not quite making it all the way there.

She shook her head. He might whine a lot, but at least Jack was generally compliant. "Minimum? I need your vitals, probably a chest x-ray since broken ribs are suspected, I'll evaluate you for a concussion, and I need to get some blood."

Jack had started hobbling off to go change, but stopped in his tracks. "What the hell for? Bastard just whaled on me. Didn't poison me or anything!"

She looked almost sympathetic. Jack was not a fan of anything sharp, that was common knowledge. "I'd let you off the hook if I could, Jack." She sounded like she meant it. "But, we need to test for the presence of myoglobin … and it wouldn't hurt to run some cardiac enzymes, too."

"What the hell is my-goblins or whatever?"

Mac chuckled and answered him. "Myoglobin is produced when there's damage to a muscle, including the heart. It's common to test for it after an incidence of electroshock."

Jack glared at Mac as though he was actively siding with the nurse already and then through her a glare for good measure. She just shrugged and turned back to Riley. "Your vitals are fine, but I'd still like to run a blood sample."

Riley shrugged and started rolling up her sleeve. "Better safe than sorry when it comes to your heart."

Mac almost laughed at the betrayed look Jack tossed Riley. He clearly felt like she was part of a conspiracy to make him feel like a wuss. He waited outside the small bathroom, and helped Jack back over to the couch when he came out in sweats and a t-shirt.

He looked a lot better with the blood cleaned off his face, but the bruises were starting to darken, and he was awfully wobbly and stiff as he moved. Mac was glad that they'd gotten someone with Mel's level of expertise rather than just one of the usual field crew. He was worried, and his furrowed brow made it impossible to hide. He helped Jack settle onto one of the couches and took a position on the one opposite him.

Jack didn't grumble too much about the portable x-ray, or the concussion evaluation, or even having his vitals taken, although he did whine some about the blood pressure cuff since he was already sore everywhere.

"I'm sorry, Jack," the nurse said, and they could hear the 'but' in her voice before she went on. "And you're about to like me even less than usual."

"What's the matter?" Mac asked, sitting forward on his couch. Jack smiled a little at his concern. The kid was taking after him more every day.

"His vitals are a little off," she answered, then returned her attention to her patient. "How many times did you get hit with the cattle prod, Jack?"

Jack shrugged, noting that he could sort of feel that his pulse was a little bit irregular. He'd been chalking it up to nerves and exhaustion. "I dunno. A couple," he shrugged.

"I heard at least ten times," Mac said, his voice dropping with his imagination telling him just exactly that would have been like.

"It was probably double that," Riley said, eyeing Jack with real worry about his vital signs not being normal.

Mel nodded like that's what she was expecting to hear. "And you've got some broken ribs and a lot of pain and bruising besides." She pressed her lips together for a minute. "So, here's the thing. I definitely need to get a blood sample, but since I'm going to poke you anyway, I'd like to start an IV, just in case you wind up needing cardiac meds while we're in transport."

Jack was pale. "You think it damaged _my heart_?"

"No, no. Not necessarily. And probably not permanently even if somehow it did." Jack relaxed fractionally. "But, with what happened, I'd rather be safe than sorry. Like Riley said. When it comes to your heart, that's the way to go."

Jack sighed and folded his arms. "Haven't I been tortured enough for one day?"

"Don't be so dramatic, Dalton, jeez," Mel rolled her eyes.

"Like poking somebody fifty times and cackling like the wicked witch while you do it couldn't be classified as torture. I think you violate the Geneva Conventions just by coming to work."

She snickered, taking hold of his wrist and pulling his arm down so she could find a good spot. "Fifty times? I need one. Only one. Ever. Even on your fiberglass-veined partner over there."

Mac widened his eyes in joking horror. "You leave me out of the stabbing today, thank you very much."

Mel grinned at Jack again. "And I don't cackle. I have an evil laugh. You have to have a good evil laugh. That's just about standards."

Jack almost smiled, then he grumped again. "I don't need medical overkill, I'm pretty sure."

Mac stepped in at the imploring look Mel gave him. "Jack, everybody is worried about you and how much damage those guys did. Just let Sully do her job, okay?"

Melody smiled at him. He could usually be counted on to keep Jack level, although when the roles were reversed it was a two-way street. Given how difficult both of them could be, the mellowing influence they had on each other was welcome and something to be cultivated. "Listen to your partner, Jack. He's looking out for you," she said gently. When Jack looked at Mac, she just started the job.

"He's the one who calls you bossy and mean," Jack said in his whiniest, most accusatory tone.

Mel glanced over her shoulder at Mac who was holding up his hands in a placating gesture. His blue eyes were wide and innocent and his tone at its most earnest. "I have never said that, Sully, I swear."

"Boy Scout's lying," Cage contributed from behind the newspaper she was reading, pretending not to find Jack's response to Phoenix's head nurse hilarious.

"Uh, no I'm not," Mac laughed dismissively, giving her a way-to-throw-your-teammate-under-the-bus frown.

Mel shook her head, trying very hard not to smile. "First of all, you most certainly _have_ said that. To my face, at least twice."

"No, I …"

"I mean, you were pretty full of painkillers at the time, so I can see why you wouldn't remember being that honest." She looked at Cage who had now folded down her newspaper. "Second of all, Agent Cage, I have it on good authority that your teammate there got kicked out of Boy Scouts. And the _how_ is pretty hilarious."

Mac's face was now a mix of amusement and sort of shocked irritation. "You do not know that story. _Jack_ doesn't even know that story."

"Oh, I know it, Jack knows it, and everybody in Medical who was around you all hopped up on pain meds after you got shot in Italy last year knows it. You get chatty when you're medicated."

"I … You … You know what?" Mac paused and puffed out a long sigh, his face flushing at the idea that half of Medical must know the scout story, that Jack knew. At least none of them had teased him about it. Yet. Finally having to admit he was at a loss for words, Mac shrugged. "I got nothin'."

"This sounds like a good story," Cage observed. "Care to share, Nurse Sullivan?" she asked.

"Call me Mel," she offered. "Or Sully. I'm not too formal, especially around this crew. I probably see more of them than their families do." She looked back and forth between them. "Trouble magnets, the two of them."

"So, Sully, you going to let me in on Mac's secret shame?" Cage gave a conspiratorial grin.

"No," Mel said pleasantly, and Mac flashed her a grateful smile, but it faded slightly when she followed up with, "I think it'd be a lot more fun to watch you try to get it out of him."

His smile returned when he saw Cage's elaborate frown. Mel hadn't said it, but her tone heavily implied, "Good luck with that."

Jack had been entirely focused on Mac's reactions and Cage's probing expression, so Mel patted him on the shoulder as she got up hanging the IV bag from the portable tree she was unfolding. "All set, Jack."

He looked up at her, half smiling. "Nurses are sneaky. You were distracting me on purpose."

"Well, yeah. You know how I hate to see you cry, Dalton." She grinned back at him. "You can lose the IV as soon as the computer kicks out your lab results, if they're clean. In the meantime, want to hate it less because I use it to give you some of the good stuff for the rest of what those guys did to you?" she asked, her expression less teasing and more compassionate now.

He shrugged, not quite wanting to admit in front of Riley or Mac that he really hurt all that badly. They worried. And when Mac got worried he fussed. Jack had taught him some terrible hovering habits over the years. "I'm good," Jack lied.

"The thing is, Jack," she said, sounding both sympathetic and vaguely threatening at the same time. "Broken ribs, combined with the electroshock you got means lots of muscle spasms. Could be what's lowering your saturated O2 actually."

Jack glanced at Riley, like the idea of anything taking him down for the count if she needed him was unacceptable. "I'm probably fine," he hedged.

"Don't tell me you're going to start being as stubborn and ridiculous as your partner," Mel said, sounding altogether disapproving of both of them.

"Hey!" Mac defended. "I'm not the one injured here. You can both leave me right out of this!" Cage started laughing and he snatched her newspaper out of her hands and opened it in front of his face. "You're not part of this either!" he huffed in her general direction and started pretending to read the sports section instead of glaring at everyone other than Riley who was valiantly trying not to laugh.

Jack actually grinned up at Mel now. "Yeah, I'll take something, I guess. Hey … did you really put a note on his chart that says he's stubborn and ridiculous so everyone reads it when he shows up at Medical?"

She smirked at Mac before she said, "Maybe," and proceeded to inject something into Jack's IV. He relaxed visibly after a couple of minutes and Riley pulled his feet up onto her lap.

Riley asked, looking at Jack's heavy eyes, "Is it okay to let him sleep?"

Mel nodded. "I'll come wake him up and assess him every little while." She put a hand on Riley's shoulder. "He's gonna be fine, honey. All the labs and meds … It's just a precaution. Okay?"

She grinned at Mac who was looking like he didn't know what to make of her calm compassion. It was how she treated everyone, but this team tended to take the basic protocols of medical care overly personally. And Mac couldn't even be counted on the stay put when he was recovering from a major chest wound, so she found herself lecturing the two of them a lot. Today was pretty easy.

Mel disappeared into one of the back seats. Mac closed his eyes, pretending he could possibly sleep. After a little while he heard Jack's voice, sleepy certainly, but also attentive and worried. "You doin' okay, Ri?"

There was a ragged, uneven breath. "I'm fine, Jack. How're you feeling?"

Mac could hear the slight smile in Jack's vaguely doped up voice. "Feelin' nothin' at all at the moment, sweetheart."

"That's good," Riley said, her voice husky.

They were silent so long, Mac wondered if they'd both dozed off, but didn't want to open his eyes to check and potentially get dragged back into a conversation. He wasn't quite done blushing over the leaked boy scout story, and sort of wondered if Riley knew too, or if Jack would blab while he was on the good drugs if someone reminded him of it. He had finally almost managed to drift off himself when Riley spoke again, so quiet he almost didn't catch it.

"Is it always like this?"

"Hmmm?" Jack asked, not wide awake, but not wanting to bail on their conversation.

"Like what happened today … Like that psycho in the Devil's Triangle … Like Murdoc …. Is it always like that? Like I can deal with the idea of a stray bullet or a bomb gone wrong, but that guy today … when he brushed my face … when he said …"

She stopped, breathing deeply, trying to get on top of the rising panic that was making her want to be sick. "Oh, Ri, I woulda done anything to stop him from hurtin' you."

"I know," she said flatly. "Because you sure as hell tried. And that's why Mel's all worried about you, and you're hooked up to IV fluids, and Mac looked as freaked out as I've ever seen him."

"Mac doesn't freak out. He knows the life."

"You didn't see his eyes when Melody said your vital signs weren't regular. His face looked like it did when we all went back to where Murdoc had held him captive."

"Huh," was all Jack said.

"How often does that happen, getting grabbed out in the field like that?"

Cage's voice interjected, wider awake than any of the rest of them. "Not often, Riley. It's a fluke, nothing to worry about …"

Jack interrupted, ornery and not caring how grouchy he sounded. "All the time," he answered, throwing a sleep fogged glare at Cage. "It happens to some degree all the time. Sometimes because we have to let it happen. I don't like you being out there with us for that reason. Among others." He hummed softly to himself and rolled into a more comfortable position. "Don't try to make her feel better by lyin' Cage. You must know …" Jack trailed off for a minute. Mac almost wanted to open his eyes when Jack spoke again. "It's never happened to you before, has it?"

"Of course it has," Cage snapped. "You guys had to get me loose from Hayes and …"

"Oh, I was hardly countin' Hayes," Jack said. "But you ain't exactly been yourself since that happened. And, you didn't exactly seem prepared for it at the time. Afraid of water and you served over in Afghanistan? Seems like you'd be real easy for the bad guys to break," Jack murmured, finally giving voice to something that had been bothering him for a long time.

"Mac told you ..!" she began, ready to shake the blond awake so she could yell at him. He kept his face sleep smooth, hoping Jack's drug-induced honesty would continue and get him off the hook.

"Didn't have to, dumdum," Jack drawled. "You're not the only trained interrogator on the squad, in case you haven't noticed."

Mac risked cracking an eye open to look at Cage's face. He shut it again quickly, stifling the urge to laugh. She looked so offended, like a cat that's suddenly found itself in water.

"How many times?' Jack repeated mildly, then he groaned softly as he shifted position again.

"Other than Hayes," Riley tacked on helpfully, and Mac could hear the smirk in her voice. On the surface Ri liked Cage well enough, but there was something there. Ri didn't trust easily, and her instincts were usually good. It made Mac wonder a little.

Cage was quiet for probably a full minute before she snapped, "None! I've never been captured." Then her voice got a hard edge. "Maybe I'm just better at my job than you guys."

Mac thought that comment might have escalated things into an argument, but their current medic's voice cut through the conversation, almost right off Mac's elbow. It took all of his training not to jump and reveal that he'd been listening in. "What are you two doing keeping my patient awake?"

"Um, nothing," Riley answered.

"He's been awake, being grouchy," Cage said, trying to divert attention from herself.

"Grouchy, huh?" Mel asked, kneeling down next to Jack. "How's your pain. 1 to 10 like we do, Jack. Don't bullshit me."

Jack sighed. "Probably still a five or six."

"Hmmm. Okay. Want some more medication so you can rest?"

Mac heard his partner sigh. "Maybe, yeah."

He heard shuffling around and Jack's sigh of relief as the ratio of pain medication to his pain shifted in his favor. The Mel said, "Cage, you can come sit in the back. By me. He might be feeling grouchy, but I felt the need to come up here because I could hear a tone that was making him grouchy."

Cage started to say something, but was interrupted.

"Did that sound like a suggestion? I'm sorry. What I meant to say was move your ass and leave my patient be."

Her voice was pleasant enough, but there was a definite order in it. Cage didn't say anything else, just got up and moved to one of the seats further away from the couches.

Riley snickered. "Thanks. She doesn't mean to, but I think she pisses both these guys off quite a bit."

Mac could hear moving around again and Mel's quiet reply. "The way she was smirking when Jack got nervous about the blood draw made me want to pretend I was still in high school and pull her hair."

Riley snickered again, almost to the point of conspiratorial giggling. "She does have kind of pullable hair. I keep telling her she should put it up on missions, but …"

"But she knows best of course. Better at everything than everybody. I don't care how trained someone says they are as an interrogator. My job is to know bullshit when I hear it or see it. These guys aren't the only ones who are less than honest with their healthcare providers, if you get my drift. And something about your new teammate bugs me." Riley murmured some agreement. "I probably shouldn't say that out loud, but I'm too tired from that last mission and then getting called in for you guys to be less than honest."

Riley shrugged, Mac could hear it in her voice. "I like honest. I don't know what to think of her either. And right now, I don't want anyone around who's gonna give Jack a hard time. I … I love the crazy bastard. You know?"

"Anyone can see that, Riley," the nurse answered. "His vitals have stabilized. That's a good sign," she assured the younger woman. "Why don't you move to that other couch? Get some rest yourself? You clearly need it."

"Do I look that bad?"

"Maybe a little," Mel answered, a smile in her voice. "Or at least you will if you don't get some sleep. I think you're probably uninjured. Physically anyway, even absent the full analysis of your blood work. But emotionally … These things take a toll."

"You're probably right," Riley answered. Mac heard her get up and move away to the one other couch, further back on the jet.

Mac heard some more quiet movement. "Better, Jack?"

"Mmmm. 'm good now," Mac's partner mumbled sleepily.

"Good. I'll be back in a bit when the computer finishes up your labs." Jack mumbled something else unintelligible.

Knowing his partner was probably going to be okay, Mac thought maybe he could actually doze off now. A gentle hand on his shoulder made him jump. His eyes shot open. "Sully, Jesus. You scared me."

"Usually," she smirked. "He's okay, Mac. By the time we land, you can probably just take him home. Although if you do, he should probably stay with you for a couple of days and take it easy."

Mac stretched and nodded. "Of course."

She grinned as she started to go back to where she was keeping an eye on the computer for the mobile lab results. "Good. Go to sleep for real or when he wakes up I will tattle to your partner so he can fuss at you for not taking care of yourself because you're worried about someone else. You're not as good at pretending to sleep as you think you are. I've had your number since you came in from Italy months ago."

Mac's mouth dropped open and he thought about protesting, but he just gave her a nod and said, "Duly noted," as she walked back to her seat. Pretty sure Jack was asleep, he muttered quietly, "She is bossy and mean."

Jack cracked an eye open, and Mac could see how dilated his pupils were from across the aisle. He answered Mac drowsily. "She is that, bud. But if she'll rat you out to me, she just got herself taken off the naughty list this Christmas."

"Go to sleep, Jackass," Mac smiled as he pulled a blanket out of one of the drawers by the couch and rolled over himself. It was a long flight home.


	6. Chapter 6

Matty obligingly let them take a few days to recuperate after the mission before the expected debrief. Mac thought Jack still looked like he belonged home on the couch, and Matty had offered that he could participate by video chat, but he'd insisted he was fine and was determined to go in to the office.

When they'd met the rest of the team by the bank of elevators downstairs Riley hadn't said a word until after she wrapped Jack in a tight hug. Then she had to ask at least fifteen questions about how he was feeling, looking to Mac for confirmation when he claimed to be fine.

Cage didn't say as much, but seemed to feel at least mildly apologetic for pushing Jack. As they stepped on the elevator though, it was clear she hadn't lost interest in prying into Mac's past. "So, since it all happened years ago, what's the harm in telling me the Boy Scout story?"

Mac willed himself not to flush at the memory, and answered coolly, "Since it all happened years ago, what difference does it make?"

Cage frowned at him, then narrowed her eyes at his partner. "Jack, did your partner really spill his childhood secrets in Medical?"

Jack smirked. "I can neither confirm nor deny Nurse Sullivan's version of events."

Now Mac was smirking too. "Why do you need to ask Jack is she was telling the truth? Don't you just know?"

The elevator opened and they started down the hall toward the command center of Phoenix. "Trust but verify," Cage said, smiling but sounding a little annoyed.

Mac managed a chuckle and he and Jack exchanged an amused look. "So if you can't tell if she was lying, you have to assume that maybe she was making up that story just to screw with you." He paused. "And if she wasn't, and she just decided to tell you about it, you wouldn't be able to tell if she was lying or not. So you might as well drop it."

Cage grinned at that. "For now, I suppose."

Jack found that he was still a little annoyed with her, but he had to give Cage credit for reverting to their usual teasing banter, and she had more than held up her side out there helping Mac get the job done. He held the door for her and the rest of the team and fell into step next to Mac.

Enjoying when he could point out their methods were successful, because he was still occasionally insecure about how Matty might respond to a mission's results whether they were successful or not, Mac made sure to rundown the highpoints of success as they headed toward her office. He could see Jack's dad-joke-pun-face expression before his partner even opened his mouth to drop one of the worst ones in a while.

Cage's contribution to the conversation was to respond with amusement and an art reference of her own, while Riley said affectionately not to encourage him. Mac was on the verge of an Olympics worthy eyeroll since he'd spend too days waiting on his partner and being peppered with his puns and bad jokes.

Everyone was pulled up a little short when Matty stopped to share with them the report she'd just gotten on her phone as they walked toward the debrief. Neither Riley or Cage looked overly shocked, but Mac and Jack were exchanging looks like the starting quarterback and left tackle just found out the team mascot scored the game winning touchdown while they were taking a Gatorade break.

Then Mac's expression dissolved into one of complete pride in his best friend. He wouldn't have suggested hiring Boze as a solution back when Murdoc first attacked them and revealed his identity to his friend if he hadn't thought he could be successful. But Bozer's initiation into their organization hadn't exactly been smooth. He hadn't expected training to be any different.

Mac had completed the training like he was performing out of a textbook, but had accomplished nothing particularly spectacular when he'd run through it years ago, and back when Jack had gone through it he basically got kicked out. Mac hadn't expected any kind of extreme out of Boze. He was determined to throw the guy one hell of a party, even if it did have to wait a couple of weeks for him to finish training.

The party planning got started right in Matty's office, along with a fair amount of ribbing between Mac and Jack about their own days going through the motions of proving they could do the job. It devolved quickly into tales of their Army days, which Matty found highly diverting. She did steer the conversation back to planning the celebration of Bozer's success.

It was quite a feather in her cap to have so many of her team being reported to Oversight as spectacularly successful. Also, sending them home to plan a celebration would give Jack time for more rest. Medical had provisionally discharged him when they got home, and he'd been staying with Mac, but there was only so much good a list of discharge instructions and a partner who was used to Jack being the one to hover was going to do for his recovery.

And Matty still didn't like the look of him. She thought she might tap Riley in to help Mac keep an eye on the still recovering senior member of their team. Something had shifted in their relationship lately. Riley was looking at Jack in a new way; respectful, occasionally skeptical, but now altogether affectionate. And Jack listened to every word she said. He adored Mac, no question, but was used to the slightly argumentative edge their more brotherly relationship usually lent itself to. And usually Mac could argue his partner into anything he needed to. With Riley, all she had to do was ask, and Papa Jack was right there. That would probably be the magic formula to getting him to really take care of himself. One kid to pester him and keep it good humored, the other to trick him into thinking it wasn't really about him.

0-0-0

Two weeks later, Jack was back to his usual self, and the team was laying on a quick op to return the Franz Marc to its rightful owner. They were hopeful that they could make it back to LA in time for Bozer's homecoming that night.

The core team planned a small welcome home and way to go new James Bond party at Mac and Bozer's place ahead of the big bash Matty had planned to congratulate him on what amounted to his first solo mission completed while he was still in training. You had to celebrate an organizational first, after all.

Since the team knew the routine in Janssens' estate, they expected a smooth mission to return the "borrowed" Franz Marc. Well, most of the team. Jack seemed more than half convinced that the whole mansion was cursed or haunted or worse and had been a little prone to jumping at shadows.

Mac supposed that was fair given that some of the man's bruises were still fading and the he and Riley had dragged Jack into Medical at least four times because they got concerned. It had taken Sully and Dr. Anderson together giving them both a pretty good chewing out about acting like a couple of nervous parents to get them to stop hovering and losing sleep over the big guy.

He was doing his best to get them in and out of the estate as fast as possible. And he was managing to be amused at how carefully Jack was avoiding any and all chairs. The only place he'd sat down since they got into Belgium this time was in the van.

Mac was just about to let Jack know they were all clear when the all too familiar alarm began to blare. He looked over at Jack who was casually leaning on what at first glance had probably looked like a decorative wall to the guy with an affinity for velvet Elvises and 80's and 90's crime show memorabilia.

"I just leaned up against the wall!" Jack asserted innocently.

"It's not a wall!" Mac practically groaned. "It's a 14th century Giotti di Bondone fresco!"

They argued about just what exactly constituted art as opposed to furniture and weight bearing structural features all the way to the nearest window, despite Mac's assertion that he was done arguing. They looked down at the pool with a moment's trepidation; Mac because it was a lot higher up than he was interested in being.

Jack hesitated for almost the same reason – the drop was gonna hurt no matter how well they aimed for the water - he didn't want to say anything and get Ri and Mac fussing over him again but he was still vaguely sore all over, which while Medical said was common enough from electrically induced muscle spasms, was still a pain in the everything. "Man, sometimes this job sucks," he sighed before launching himself out over the pool.

This time when they hit the water it was even colder than it had been a few weeks ago and both men were left shivering and gasping as they made their way back to the van. When they opened the door and climbed in, Cage and Riley were laughing. But Riley handed them a couple of big dry towels, almost like she'd expected the outcome. Both men threw her slightly dirty looks as they toweled off. Cage smirked as she asked, "You want me to pull into a gas station, so you can dry off?" she paused, sputtering laughter. "Again."

Riley saved the day, giving them both sympathetic, if highly amused, looks. She produced a backpack from by her feet. "Change of clothes, for both of you."

Mac grabbed the bag and started using the towels to rig a curtain between the front and the back of the van. "Thanks, Ri," was all he said, trying not to laugh when he realized that while she'd probably planned the towels and clothes to offer as a prank when the mission was successful, they were better off than they'd been the last time when they'd planned for things to go wrong.

After they'd changed and Mac pulled the towels down he tapped Cage on the shoulder. "Hey, you wanna pull into that gas station up there?"

"What for? Did you manage to get your extra clothes wet now too?"

"No, but our shoes are still wet and we're freezing. That place has better coffee than the stuff they keep on the jet."

"Oh hell yeah," Jack agreed. "A cup of that coffee would hit the spot."

"Always making the best of a bad situation, aren't you?" Cage asked.

Riley grinned and answered for them.

"Get used to it. It's what we do."


End file.
